


Sins of the Watcher

by growligan



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Heimdall's voyeurism fetish, M/M, Masturbation, Onesided Heimdall/Odin, Perverted old men, Small Penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 01:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12807090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growligan/pseuds/growligan
Summary: My friend wanted me to write a fic of Heimdall *watching* someone. I decided to give it to them with a little twist they probably didn't expect.





	Sins of the Watcher

Heimdall snickered ominously. He knew that it was wrong, oh yes, but what was life without a little bit of excitement? And Heimdall liked getting his excitement in a very predictable yet very messed up way. He liked _watching_ people. It was his little secret, of course. No one knew. And it wasn’t as if he was going to tell him if they weren’t intelligent enough to suspect it themselves.

The perverted old man drew a shaky breath as he watched Odin unzip his pants and pull out Gungnir. At least, that was what Heimdall liked to call it in secret. Odin’s dongle.

It wasn’t really anything to brag about, to be honest. Short, far too short from what you’d expect of a man of his might and power. Not particularly thick either. To be brutally honest, it reminded Heimdall a bit of a flesh colored pencil that had been broken in half. He couldn’t help but feel bad for Frigga. Surely Odin’s little pecker couldn’t satisfy her much.

But then, maybe it did. There seemed to be something about Odin’s undersized penis that drew people to it. Frigga. Gaea. All the other women he had put it in. And, Heimdall admitted to himself with a blush darkening his cheeks, he himself.

Heimdall was a dirty old pervert who liked watching people with small dicks masturbate. Maybe it was the contrast to Heimdall’s own dick? It was big and thick and right now, struggling to break free from the prison his pants provided.

Heimdall tutted and shook his head. His dick had never been one for self control. He pulled it out with one quick moment, and the tip weeped with joy at having been freed.

Meanwhile, Odin was working his little tickler with fervent strokes, panting like an asthmatic. Heimdall couldn’t suppress the moan that left his mouth, and he licked his lips apprecitingly. Odin was a dirty old man and Heimdall approved. Oh boy, did he approve.

“Odin you kinky old man…” whispered Heimdall, knowing full well the King couldn’t hear him. It didn’t matter. Heimdall liked talking dirty. Almost as much as he liked small dicks. “Keep rubbing it you perverted pig...”

As if Odin could hear him, he started rubbing his penis faster, and Heimdall knew that he wouldn’t last for much longer now. Odin never lasted particularly long. During these centuries that Heimdall had spied on him, the times he’d lasted for more than two minutes could probably be counted on one hand.

And surely enough, Heimdall was right. White, sticky goodness shot out of Odin’s shameful sinner and he came with a guttural screech.

Meanwhile, Heimdall had covered the floor in front of him with his own sperm-filled substance.

All was good.


End file.
